Once Upon A Dream
by asking-angels
Summary: Ever since Ariel left the ocean, her life has gotten to be REALLY different. The so-called "sleeping beauty" has awakened. These two enchanting darlings clash, both waiting for something. Different appearances. (I know, I know, whisper my punishment). Digitally remastered...Auriel.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As far as I know, this is the first Ariel/Aurora pairing! Therefore, the ship name 'Auriel' is mine. Sort of sounds like Sebastian when he says Ariel :) **

**If this ship becomes popular, remember that I was the first. **

**A big thank-you to I'm. Aware. Unf. She's inspired me into pieces. **

**And to each of my tumblr friends, thanks muchly for occupying my mind. I LOVE YOU.**

**This is my first fanfic everrr...so, please. **

* * *

"Why does this have to be _so delicious_?" I place my strawberry-banana smoothie on the picnic table, taking one last sip. My friends acknowledge me, quickly getting back to their laugh fest with the neighboring table. I encounter this every day. It's a daily routine, eating lunch out here. I sigh, straightening my dark pink dress and dropping my bag in the grass. It's fairly quiet in the school's courtyard, and I'm actually very impressed with the way the greenery is kept. The grass is lush and bright, and the plants lining the brick wall are happy, the way their leaves perk up, stems without blemishes, petals nowhere near ripping. I smile, because really, they smiled at me to begin with. Okay, enough of this shit.

We're a prime quartet, Flora, Fauna, Merryweather and me. I know that we're always seen together, whether it's walking in the halls, shopping for dresses, hanging out after school, or at my house, washing my car, screaming when the ice-cold water hits our skin. That's one of my favorite memories. I've washed cars since I was three, wearing cheap rubber flip flops, splashing around in the soap suds, a murky mixture in the bucket, trails of bubbles flowing down my driveway. Except for when the four of us are getting along, I piss them off the most. One day, I just know it, they're gonna leave me. Leave me with nothing. It's as if each of them has a gift, and they've influenced me equally. Like they carry hidden magic wands.

Fauna combs through her straight, light brunette hair, a look of displeasure spread across her face. I glance at her and then away again, thinking the look has to do with me. I didn't do anything, did I? Once again, the cycle starts a new round. A tinge of depression spots itself in my eyes.

"Aurora, do you have any lotion?" Flora looks up at me gently, setting down her vegetarian sandwich. She's older than me by five months, and I have to say, she definitely acts on it. Her eyes wander over my bag on the ground, knowing I do have lotion; I just hesitate to let people use my stuff.

"Um yeah." I fish the raspberry lotion out of the largest pocket, handing it to Flora, dumping my tote on the grass once again.

Merryweather is looking around at everything. She's the youngest of all of us and very observant and smart. However, she can be a total bitch sometimes. "I already speak German," she says to the person on the other end of her phone call, fists clenching on the weathered wood of our table. I hear the other person say in pieces "I'm sorry" and "You've lost your chance", followed by "Sorry again, goodbye." Merryweather slams her phone down, groaning. "Stupid people won't let me go to Germany for the summer, even when I told them all the things good about me and my fluidity in the language. Bastards. There's no reason why this is acceptable, you know you guys? It's not fair, after everything I tried to get myself into this program." When Merryweather speaks, her words come out in bursts, never-ending sentences of two emotions: either enthusiasm or hatred. "Ugh," she looks at the glass door, which leads out here. "Oh. Who's that?" she says and squints her eyes. I follow her gaze across the courtyard.

I'm one for soaking in and analyzing everything, and once I find an avenue through someone else, it's priceless. My eyes find the point at the end of the ray. It's a girl. A _new _girl. And it's not the type of girl who would regularly be seen here. There's something about her, at first glance that makes me think _whoa. _I try not to stare, but I've never let my eyes linger on someone for so long. It's just…she glows. Radiates. Maybe it's her blue hair. Or that ghostly skin so pale that if she were naked, she'd easily blend in with the snow. There's something about her so mysterious, that seems as if she's come here from a whole new world, or planet even. And I like it. She's something fresh, new. Something waiting to be ruined. Awaiting anything. And there's a shell inside of me screaming, _OHMIGOD CAN I JUST KNOW YOU AND BE YOUR BEST FRIEND._

But once again, I'm halted. She probably doesn't want to be around an airy goody-two-shoes like me.

There's a worried look on her face, flawless eyebrows crinkled together, lips formed into a false smile. I want to learn her. I want to know her. Because just by looking, she's someone from my dreams.

"What the hell?" Merryweather's voice suddenly breaks in. She's still watching the new girl, frowning. "Well that's something new."

They make me mad, the things Merryweather says. I want to tell her to shut up, to think over her snide remarks. That's when I come in with the role as a savior, because if she insults someone I care for in the slightest bit, well, I'll do anything to make her take what she said back.

And this…this girl on the other side of the courtyard, this girl with the bright hair…I feel for her.

Flora lifts her head. "Her name is Ariel." She swallows her bite of sandwich, wiping her mouth with a pink and white napkin. "She's in my science class. Our unit right now is oceanography, and she's, like, _really _smart. She knows her stuff front and back. She's outsmarted our teacher seven times."

I look over to where the girl named Ariel has sat down, in the grass beside the small stone birdbath. I toss my smoothie in the trash and gawk. "That's…interesting," I say facing Flora, eyes straining to stay on Ariel. She's beautiful. "She's really pretty, don't you think?"

Flora and Fauna nod. Merryweather straightens and raises a dark eyebrow. "Might want to do something about that hair…," she says under her breath. I'm just about done with her.

Ideas dart through my head, all relating to one compelling plan. I want to get to know Ariel. I want to get close. And I'll do what I have to.

**A/N: Hey there, lovelies. **

**DO NOT HATE my poor unfortunate soul for changing the setting completely. And the characters' looks. Well, the fairies remain the same...but I just did what I felt was right. And I wanted it to be more modern, cause really, it'll be a big help with the way this fic is gonna turn out. Everything WILL be clarified sooner or later. Besides, who doesn't love a good twist? Things are exxtremelyy vague right now, but just wait. **

**I'm a voyager in this ship, a hopefully refreshing one, and I need reassurance. **

**Please, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disallowance of Wonder: I have no relation whatsoever to Disney.**

"Flora, what's wrong with me?"

Flora keeps her eyes trained on the pavement as we walk. School's let out, and we're just a breezy pair of colors in the crowd. "Pardon? What?"

My thick, blonde curls press against my neck, and sometimes I swear, my hair is an anchor. It's so heavy. Especially in this heat. It sticks to my skin, a static fleece blanket, and I sweep it back, tying it in a yellow ribbon. "What's wrong with me?"

Her face doesn't change. "Honey," she smiles. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"Merryweather says there is." I add a pout to my voice.

"No one cares what Merryweather thinks. She doesn't know what she's saying half the time." Flora grips the metal railing as we walk down our school's steps.

"But I kind of agree with her."

"What do you mean?" She looks at me, lips formed into an 'o'.

"The three of you guys seem so ordinary. Normal. Like your lives couldn't be better."

When I transferred here to Magistrix College, Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather sort of approached me unexpectedly and pulled me into their little group of "magic". I was glad I had friends, but at the same time, they gave me the impression of hey-we-like-you-let's-all-be-friends-and-happy-and -yay-but-not-for-long. Because they weren't exactly the types of girls I hung out with. My old friends were "sweeter" almost. All with weird dreams and handwriting and wardrobes and dialect. Therefore, when the friendship between the four of us began, I was beyond timid. But Flora –I think- was the kindest to me.

Flora raises an eyebrow. "You've got that wrong."

"Whatever," I say. "I'm talking about my head. What's wrong with my head? My mind is a mess."

"Aurora, I've never seen you upset. You never get pissed off, and even if you do, you show no sign of it. It's sort of like you have no emotion. Maybe you're a bit…_too _nice."

I hate when people say my full name. I wish I had a nickname. Something like Aur, Aura, or Auri. _Ugh. _But what just came out of Flora's mouth made sense, and I feel like I have to agree with her. Just like I do with everyone. "Right. I guess that's true," I nod slowly. I look around, surveying the canopy's loiterers, and I swear I see a flash of bright blue vanish behind the line of streetlights.

Again with the imagining. I dream such bizarre things. Monsters chasing me, carrying glittery shotguns, the ammunition only gold coins. Emotional rocks, slowly creeping through my kitchen in the middle of the night with robots. Princesses dancing on rainbow stones in a hidden corridor of my basement. And my most recent dream that I remember was a thin, pale girl with blue hair in my bedroom, standing right in front of me, looking me up and down with a grin. Her piercing azure eyes plunging into mine, making me want to collapse. They were beautiful. I haven't gotten a look at Ariel's in real life. But I'm sure they'd be close. My dreams don't repeat, but I feel destined. Destined for the two of us to know each other. It's the cheesiest thing ever, I know.

They're like matches, my feelings. Suddenly _whoosh _the small stick ignites and I'm attached. I care so _immensely _for people I barely know. I think that's my problem. I start assuming things, I start designing these scenes of the future when everything is clear and beauteous.

However, nothing is forever. Everything in the world has a life, and everything has a death.

This blue-haired girl, this Ariel is my dreamscape. Although the setting was on a lower scale than my actual bedroom, it was fantastic, the way she eyed me as if she was about to wink, eager to shove me down on the mattress and make me smile. Smile softly. A smile that has luck written across it and satisfaction tied on the ends. Short breaths that seem to say _thank you _and _fuck I'm trapped_. It was a dream I awoke from abruptly, the scene rapidly fading as I turned over on my pillow, thinking of the day I'll meet this girl. I've seen the girl, now all I have to do is start a conversation. All I have to do is control myself before I ruin everything. Like I did last time.

Flora turns onto her street, as I remain standing at the curb. "See you tomorrow, love," she says.

I attempt to keep good posture as I continue home, but it results in fucked up trudging. I'm depressed. I shake my head, threading my hand through my pulled blonde curls. Tomorrow is a new day, I suppose. I'll talk to Ariel then.

When I get home, my room appears as if my walls went on a rampage. Books are tossed off my shelf, bland white sheets rumpled to the end of the bed frame, mirror lopsided on the wall, spare change littered all over the carpet below my nightstand. I'm so goddamn organized all the time, but now I can't believe myself. OCD, that's what it is. It's relapsing. Or maybe I'm so paranoid that this is an illusion. I don't know anymore. I don't want to know. Can someone tell me what my problem is? I gradually put my room back to the way it was, lips trembling and mind knotted. Maybe I should start a diary. No, I just threw away my package of ballpoint pens. How about drawing a picture. No, only toddlers do that. I'll play some music. Shit, I don't know where my phone is. _I don't know where my phone is, goddamit. _The weather's nice, I'll go for a walk. Wait, it's getting dark and humid out. I'll put on a soothing black and white film and sip tea. No, we're out of tea. And my collection of old films is packed away in my closet. I finally settle on the idea of drawing a picture. I find a random sheet of pale blue construction paper and markers.

Slowly I sketch out the blue-haired girl's body. She's tall and thin with long legs, wearing cropped white shorts and a turquoise tank top. My imagination goes on forever although I can't get everything down on the paper. I draw the girl staring straight ahead as if to me, a hand resting on her small hip. She's almost finished. I add her hair; a dyed waterfall over her shoulders, contrasting from indigo at the scalp to a sea-foam green at the ends. It's something she'll be remembered by; hair has symbolism right? And it's all right here on this paper for me to come back to. This drawing is from memory. Tomorrow, I WILL see her closer. I won't be afraid to speak.

Maybe I should tell Flora about this. Maybe she can help me. Not Fauna though, she'd put on an act feeling sorry for me and definitely not Merryweather, she'd laugh in my face. No. Nobody can know. I'm hooked now. And all I can possibly do is hold on longer. Dig in deeper, satisfy my wants, experiment in my new mind's laboratory, observe, _and keep going_.

Or maybe I'm over exaggerating. I'm obsessing over something small. I'm beginning to pour everything I have into this one little cause. This…this Ariel. Should I stop? No, I don't think I can.

I lay sprawled on my window seat for the rest of the night, watching the komorebi gradually fade away. The setting sun used to be my muse. My muse for singing.

I become even more frustrated when it begins to rain. I am now guaranteed to have a bad hair day tomorrow. I peel off my pink dress and pull on my pajamas, thoughts whizzing through my head. _Tomorrow will be good. It's gonna be a good day. _ I eye my drawing on my desk, the fan blowing it lightly, blue edges rippling up like an ocean wave. I finally crawl into bed, laying there for an hour and a half, foot twitching, eyes forced shut. I can't sleep.

**A/N: Help me out?**

**PLEASE while I sip my cherry slurpee? I mean slurp?**

**Please revieww ; opinions and suggestions would be greatly appreciated ;3**

**More to come!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disallowance of Wonder: I do not own Disney. But if I did, things would just be...mm. Stuff. **

I do my best to make my bed. It's tomorrow. Today is the tomorrow I've been grieving about, however I'm forcing myself to think of it as a good thing. I look out my window, trying to find the sun, but it's absent. It's grey outside. And gloomy. And rainy and humid out. Fuck.

My dad's already fixed me breakfast by the time I come downstairs, wearing my old pink nightgown I've been dying to replace, my curls sticking out in random spots looking like an assailed cactus. Ha-ha. Kay.

My dad's name is Stefan, and needless to say, in my life, I call him that. When I was little, I used to prance around thinking I was making a joke by disobeying the rule of calling an adult by their first name. But my dad didn't lecture me. So it stuck. Only my mom got upset about it. But she's not here anymore. She moved away two years ago.

Stefan digs through the cabinet and finds his mug, slamming it down on the countertop. He finally sees me standing here. "Oh, good morning, Bri, here's your breakfast, hon." He sets a plate of French toast in front of me as I take a seat at the table.

My real name is Briar Rose Prebe. Aurora is my middle name, sort of a secondary one that my friends call me. My dad pounds the can of coffee beans against the counter as if the lid's been sealed shut. He notices me watching him, piece of toast halfway to my mouth. "Yes?"

"You know, um, you know you can break the can that way…," I say and then take a bite. Mmm. Stefan has skill.

"Sorry. I need to wake up." My dad makes himself a cup of coffee every morning, which thoroughly explains why his height hasn't changed since his college freshman year.

I take another bite, slouching as the warm, sweet taste spreads through my mouth. Even though it's just a tiny moment of savory, I need this relaxation. This whole 'being stressed and depressed' thing…it's killing me. Not just the deal with Ariel, my whole life in general, too. First, I'm suffering with my thoughts, then I've killed off some of my precious hobbies, and I've become disorganized as shit. I don't understand how my friends do it. Flora is a cheery, kind, understanding person _all the time_. I've approached her about my feelings but nothing has worked. I'm not going to tell Stefan, either. I let him catch onto my problems on his own. I pick at a loose string on my nightgown. "Hey, you might want to hurry up," Stefan says, swallowing a sip of his coffee, raising his mug in the air and ruffling his dark hair. I press my fingers down into the sticky bread. Shit. I'm running late again. Normally, I have to put my plate in the sink when I'm finished eating, but now I've been getting up from the table, leaving it there for Stefan to take care of. Also, this morning was a typical breakfast between the two of us. Me eating, him drinking; only saying a few words to each other. "Thanks," I mumble and curse my way upstairs. I have to tell myself that I'll be fine. But I can't solve this rubix cube my insecurities have arranged themselves into.

I fruitlessly do my hair and then put on my blue dress, strapping my sandals on and grabbing my tote. I look over myself in the mirror preparing my thick, curly hair for the humidity, and rub my eyes. My eyes are weird. They change from brown to purple to blue. Then I bound downstairs, my footsteps a stampede of mammoths, doing no help to calm the already distraught morning. "Bye!" I shout to Stefan and burst through the front door into the dreaded muggy morning.

Flora's already there waiting for me, tapping her foot on the sidewalk as I run to catch up. "You're fifteen minutes late again," she sighs. I keep my eyes on my feet as we walk in silence to school.

I can literally feel my hair frizzing when we arrive. Fauna and Merryweather are there, talking to each other loudly. I feel like a balance scale. So complex, trying to adjust the bar to where everything equals out. Half of me is frustrated. My hair is ruined now, my long blonde curls like a lion's mane. This fucking weather. The other half of me has butterflies. I could be x-rayed at this very moment and all one would see are a million black and white wings fluttering in my abdomen as if frantically searching for a way out. But there isn't one. Therefore, they'll spread throughout my entire body, an untamed diagnosis, until all they can do is kill me.

Okay. So I have to do something about Ariel. I've stressed my point enough, but it's an on-and-off goal. I'm scared. She has perfect qualities of beauty and mystique; it's intimidating. This fright, the hesitation…soon they will pile up to an extreme burden, only getting heavier. Presenting me with such weight I won't be able to stand it, each form of cope is nonexistent. Until I weigh too much.

Someone please slap me. Tell me I'm being ridiculous.

Before I break the scale.

* * *

I always wear my hoodie on the days of big exams. I don't have one today, but I still have that notably anxious feeling. A scared feeling almost, like I'm walking in a room with shards of glass around my bare feet and I'm blind. Like any movement I make can ruin me. In this case, I'm in school and Ariel is as well, and that young simile depicts to me fucking up. Embarrassing myself. This is why I have on my cozy, worn hoodie. At least I feel _some _comfort.

I tell myself that I need to take risks. The reason I'm so good, well behaved, and angelic around people, -mostly adults- is because I'm not forced to be. It's just…my way of venting. If people think of you that way, all "good and precious", then part of you is hidden. Maybe it means that I'm such a reserved person, it's instinct now to shut people out. But I think of it as a good thing. No one should have to deal with my problems. It's none of their business, and them not knowing is for their own good.

I slump my way into art, trying my best to keep my head up. Black isn't really a color I fancy…but it's a fear. I love it. I make my way to the square table beside the window that seats four, collapsing onto the stool, fingers running over my hair, desperately trying to calm it to a lower volume. I dig through my bag, looking for the sharpies I need to finish up my project. Fantastic. I left them at home. Rushing in the morning is something I need to fix… I occupy myself now, analyzing the brush strokes of the ocean mural on the far wall. There's a coral reef and a surprisingly proportional mermaid next to it, hand stretched out as if feeling for something important. I tilt my head as I notice the look of distress that's spread across her face. And with the surrounding blue paint…I think of Ariel.

I've congratulated myself on chickening out. I'm starting to think it's a blessing. I'll grow out of it someday…I hope. Why can't I find the courage to break out of it right now? Why can't I be just a _little _bad? Rebellious? Why aren't there teachers for this sort of thing? I let the cobalt walls flood my vision again. And it's irony, situational irony to be exact that a girl walks in. A girl with perpetually blue hair. I'm stunned. My mouth even drops open. My god, she's so beautiful…the things I would do. She takes a seat at the table farthest away from mine, and only a _tiny _sliver of me is relieved. Now I'm not as stressed. It's less of a chance to fuck things up with her. She's just…_here. _In this room a distance away, but it's a perfect spot for me to stare without her noticing. My hands begin to sweat, and I run them over the ink-like fabric of my jacket.

Maybe this hoodie is a lucky charm, too.

**A/N: TELL ME THIS IS UNREALISTIC.**

**Actually, do what you feel is right. Follow your heart. I know I'm following mine. Just...small, tiny, baby steps. Things are coming together.**

**Tell me waaht you think?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disallowance of Wonder:** **Sleeping Beauty and The Little Mermaid are owned by the same corporation. Which isn't me.**

When school ends, I tell Flora that I need some time to myself.

The walk to the park is only a few minutes from Magistrix and fortunately, the sky has cleared. The sun is out and there's a slight breeze. I think of this park as a sort of closet; somewhere I can go to think. Not many people hang out here, which in circumspect; gives off the feel of a bedroom. In other words, this place is a home. A house. I sit on the faded red swing. It's one of my favorite noises, the gentle creak of the metal, chains straining to hold me. My eyes close. I'm so…so damn confused. At this point, I don't even know anymore. Do I have a crush or don't I? On…on a _girl_? I run my tongue over my lips and notice they're chapped. I lick my lips repeatedly during the day. I guess that's one of the symptoms of this…this disorder I have. This disease of puzzlement, depression, a jumble of thoughts unable to be separated. I'm an equation, that's it. A multiplication problem…with an exponent. My head never stops increasing with negativity. I'm instigating myself. The antagonizing…it's headed to positive infinity now. My body has an up and a down, both at the same time. My happiness is forever decreasing below my x-axis, whatever the name of it is, and the bad stuff…well, I've already stated where that shit's headed. I just need to sit here. For hours. As long as it takes to sort myself out. All of this will go away eventually, right? For fuck's sake, I'm sixteen. Maybe this is normal. Just…it's beyond unfair.

I slump over on the swing; head in my hands, fingernails digging into my temples. _Bri, come on. _I shut my eyes tighter. _This is a phase. It'll pass. _"No, no. It's not a fucking phase!" I hiss into the air. I bite my lip. Here I am, talking to myself. Battling my inner demons not with a sword or dagger, but with words. I remove my hands from my face, checking for any people. No one. This…this here…it's alright. I push myself, beginning to swing, legs brushing over the mulch below. The one thing I fear…the one thing _Aurora _is scared of…is losing friends. Flora most of all. She's the only one who's really been at my side through everything, the only one who really cares, and that's something I haven't felt in a very long time. Thinking over my past, I lost two important people at the exact same time. My mother and a long-time boyfriend. Philip. He used to be my world. A portion of me wants him back, but he's with someone new now. Someone named Penelope. It's taken me fucking two years to move on, and I'm still in the process, but slowly it's fading. Part of my heart _does _have scratches on it, I'm not going to lie, and I don't want deeper ones. _Bri, be active for once. Fix yourself, you're capable. _"Shut. Up!" I let out and collapse into the soft, honey-colored mulch.

I cross my tan arms over my face. I have no choice but to remain with my eyes closed. The sun is directly above me. If I open my eyes, I'll probably go blind. But it feels good, the warmth. It's a righteous restaurant dessert; cold ice cream with hot, dripping syrupy cake on top. I'm cold. Or becoming it. Frost is lurking over my heart, waiting for the right time to freeze me. To finish me.

"Hi," a soft voice sounds. I jump, recoiling, hand grappling my hair. No, I can't have this right now. I have to be alone.

I open my eyes weightily, wincing. "Shit," I let out, the incandescent sun piercing. It's quickly covered, a head blocking the brightness, giggling face looking down at me. I blink, still trying to adjust, but…blue. It's not one of the colorful hazes you get from staring at a bright light. It's an overcast. A cloak. I shoot up immediately, hand severing through my hair.

Ariel smiles sheepishly at me, holding out her hand. I take it and she pulls me off the ground, me straightening my dress, blinking a few more times. "I saw a girl lying down over here and she looked sort of familiar. I wanted to make sure…," she puts her hand in the pocket of her short, black skirt. "I wanted to know if it was you…um, I was right." She looks at me. "Did I disturb you from your nap?"

"No! No. You didn't. I was awake. Just thinking." I bite my lip. "Ariel, right?"

She looks at me for a second, tilting her head. "Yeah. Ariel. How do you know my name…?"

I blank out, desperately trying to find words. I'm so weird. Why _the fuck _did I just say that. "A friend." I dig my fingernails into my arm. "I'm Aurora."

"Oh, that's pretty." She turns and points her head toward the swings, gesturing me to follow her. I'm stunned. What the hell is happening. Seconds ago, I was at my worst and then she just…appeared, and I'm better. I'm being told something. Something sweet. We sit on each of the scarlet swings and strangely, I'm beaming. A smile is spread across my face and it's so broad, both of my ears join in. I stare at her for a moment. She's somewhat frowning, eyes locked on the ground.

"So…are you, okay?" It's an awkward first question, but then again she matters.

"You're in my second period and you were sitting far away all alone and I know this is so weird, but I'm kinda observant, I think, and I just think you're pretty." A shadow casts across her face, piece of blue hair falling against her cheek.

She's right; I _was _sitting alone. Well fuck. She gets the point, at least. Here was me, thinking _I _would be the first one to say a compliment. "Well, thanks," I say quietly. I'm still completely disoriented, but the best thing to do right now is go with it.

"Mhm." She nods but doesn't look up. "Are _you _okay?"

"I'm alright," I shrug. Maybe if we get to know each other more, I'll open up. But that's a big 'if'. The smile that blossomed on her face falters. It's my fault. She picks her head up a few inches, eyes becoming clearer, bright blue irises glinting as the sunlight hits them. I want her to know that I'm here. I know there's something wrong. Something isn't maybe there's multiple things wrong. Whatever it is, I decide to let the words out. I want to advance. I want to go somewhere with her even if the thought is way too early to establish. I trust myself. If I've been having reoccurring dreams with her in them, if she's been causing my mind to dysfunction and be hyped up on anesthesia, then she's a risk I'm willing to take. "Don't ever be afraid to talk to me. I'm always here, you know," I tell her. I've never said that before. I mean I have to some people, but it didn't feel real then. This time, there's an ignition. It may be blurry, but Ariel is a challenge. I'm going to learn. I'm going to teach myself to change. To be a better person. Something tells me she hasn't had love or closeness in a long time, which in a way is something both of us have in common. I'll force myself to kindle attention, give her what she needs. I need something new like this. And Ariel…she's got the epithet of a guardian. She's beginning to redeem me of my happiness and aid me in this flux of distress.

Ariel twists her lips, a nebulous flush washing over her cheeks, and she stands. I watch her legs wobble. It's almost like she just came out of a wheelchair. She places her hand on my shoulder and smiles graciously. "We should um, hang out sometime."

I nod candidly, my heart and feet leaping simultaneously. Did she really just say that? Did I just hear those words come out of her mouth? This blue-haired, mysterious, beautiful girl's mouth. She steps back, brushing her thick bangs out of her face, looking over me. "See you."

I watch her go and the way she walks…it's rather charming. It's a slight stumble, like a toddler. I actually have something to look forward to. I pick up my bag and walk home, sun beating down on me like breathing. A breath that Ariel could blow in my face as she giggles, even if the warmth settles just for a second. It's enough. At least the tension is gone. At least I'm not afraid to talk to her, to be in her presence. I'll have her tomorrow.

**A/N: Building relationships is special.**

**Pay attention to them, mkay? **


	5. Chapter 5

When I walk into art the next day, the two boys who sit at the table with me are crowded around Ariel's seat. Shit. I hate how they're so obnoxious. They wave their hands in the air as they chat loudly about their new jobs and cars. Ugh. Like they even have them. I scoot past them to my seat, dropping my bag on the floor, sharpies already in my hand. Thank goodness.

I sigh slowly and sit down, glancing over at Ariel. She's wearing that false smile again, nodding to what the boys are saying. "-And so it's a great mustang, incredible features and everything." Ariel purses her lips and looks at the blonde boy. "So I was wondering if I could take you out sometime." I feel my tight grip squeezing the table. She's not going to say yes…_oh god please don't say yes_. The bell sounds and the boys recoil to their seats, Ariel watching them until her eyes land on me. She lights up, posture straightening, and I swear I see a smirk.

Until the period ends, Ariel keeps making short glances at me. I wonder what she's thinking in that little, arcane head of hers. I mean, anyone would wonder that. I hope it's something staggering. Something that would make me blush. I hope it's nothing negative…I didn't do anything did I? After all, I want something to begin here. I watch her closely, flicking my eyes through the small crack of view between the boys, and she contrasts her pastels with similar shades. All blues and greens, nonstop, and I notice she's wearing a dark blue one down to the nub. I'm dying to know what she's creating over there. Everything about her equates to a certain mystery.

When it's time for lunch, the pair of boys approach Ariel again. She's too hot for them. Even Merryweather is. The light-haired one leans in close to Ariel, tracing his finger in a circle on the table, smiling coyly. "What do you say, babe? Maybe a ride?" She blinks, scooting back from his unpleasant, magnified face. Not only is what he just said creepy, Ariel looks more uncomfortable than ever, and I am not going to let this happen. She bites her lip, eye flitting to me. It's unbelievable that these boys have the confidence to chat her up like this. I shake my head, interrupting.

"Sorry Jet, Ariel and I already have plans." Ariel tilts her head at me, caught off guard and frozen. Even I'm shocked.

"We do?" she whispers.

"What? You do?" Jetsam asks confusedly, suspicion mixed with intrigue spread across his face.

"Yep. We do." I cross my arms, leaning onto one foot, ignoring their bemused stares. Huh. Ariel's been working on an ocean. I raise an eyebrow, looking at her face and then her paper. Makes sense.

Ariel cocks her head again, a small smile appearing. "Mkay."

"But Ariel, we were…I thought…," Jetsam splutters, his twin brother Flotsam clearing his throat beside him. He flicks me off at the edge of the table below us, thinking I can't see, but he's got it wrong.

"Fuck you right back," I say, waving my hand, their signal to leave. I mean, how could they think they had a chance with Ariel? I mean, who am I to say that. Never mind. Dammit, now I have new grudges held against me. Ariel all of a sudden grabs my hand and pulls me to lunch.

She takes me to the table beside the birdbath. She seems to like this spot. She's silent for a couple minutes, eyes trained on the still water in the stone bowl, thinking intently. Hell, she's got a fuckload of stuff on her mind and it kills me just sitting here, feeling handicapped.

Ariel is a whole other place. If she was less mesmerizing, she'd be a polluted sea, dying in her own poison. She's an overload for me. I look at her and think in a brand new dimension. She's hiding stuff…at least I think she is. She seems that if I get her alone, she'll pour everything out. She's opaque, but I'm going to break her shell. I look up and find Fauna and Merryweather looking at me, Flora suddenly arriving at the table, stopping to stare, too. Fuck. I can imagine what they're thinking. The problems they have with me are growing with each day. Ariel flips her bright hair, cutting into my vision and I turn. "What's wrong?" I blurt. Her crystalline eyes are shiny as if wet, pale face even whiter.

"Y-you want to sit with your friends. It's okay."

"No! I don't. I want to eat with you. Not them. Really." I relax my eyebrows, looking her in the eye. "Don't worry so much," I smile. I want to touch her hand.

Everything is toned black and white when I'm around her. As if I'm waiting for her to flick her wand and fill my world with color. A lopsided smile pulls at the tips of her mouth and she combs through her hair with a fork. "Um," my eyes widen. "What- Why?"

Ariel pauses, tilting her head. "My old friend told me that you use this to create hairstyles. Right? It's a dinglehopper." I don't mean to gawk, but it's hard to tell if she's joking or not. She sees my face and frowns. "Guess not. Okay." She sets the fork down, embarrassed. What the fuck. See what I mean? She's a fishnet while I'm a flounder, and she's drawing me in.

I pretend to laugh, healing the moment, because what she did _was_ pretty funny. In some way. Weird and adorable.

"Hey, are you coming over?" Fauna is standing over me, thin body threatening and I jump, startled.

"Uh, no." I choke out, trying to avoid her disapproving glare. I'm about to tell her that I'm going to hang out with Ariel, just as minor revenge.

It's a relief when the bell rings and school is finally over. I'm caught up in the crowd going outside again, shuffling choppily, and a hand clutches on to my arm. "Hey," Ariel says, her crooked steps a hard line in the jumble of students.

"Oh, hi, Ariel." I manage to get her name out this time. She tugs me over to one of the rose bushes bordering the school and strangely, I'm blushing.

"You said we were gonna hang out."

"Mhm, yeah." It's all I can think of to say. I feel like a dork, sometimes just fucking blanking out and looking dumb. Right now, under the beaming sun just like yesterday, Ariel is so gorgeous. And against these roses…mm. _Roses. _I've gotta stick with this. I've gotta stick with…getting her. Because really, I want it. Her.

"School's over," she says, smoothing down her plaid skirt. "Where did you want to go?"

Right. I didn't think about this part of the plan. Places to go…places to go… My eyes dart over the verdigris ground, mind desperately thinking of somewhere. Not the park, we were there yesterday. The pool? Oh, god no… The bookstore? No, I wouldn't be able to leave. I'd suggest my house, but it's a mess. I look Ariel up and down sneakily, hoping she doesn't realize it, and the idea comes to me. I want to get to know her, right?

"Let's go to your house."

She straightens herself, shoulders rolling back. "My house?"

"Mhm. It sounds fun, doesn't it? We can…make cookies, play in the sprinkler, do each other's hair, right?" All of that is what I need. Relaxing, laugh-triggering activities. I do want to do her hair. I want my hands _all up in it. _It's so pretty, the color. I just need to run my fingers through it and...I- actually that sounds weird. But Ariel grins, agreeing with the venue. She leads me to her place, messily skipping, hair a rippling ocean.

**A/N: Kay. Things are starting to happen now.**

**Stay...storied. Chaptered.**

**Waahht.?**

**:3**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disallowance of Wonder: Disney, unfortunately, is not a bounty I possess.**

I kick my bare feet up on Ariel's bed collapsing into the pillows, a blue icy pop in my hand. She went downstairs and got it for me, and I have to say, this is pretty pleasing. Her parents are out –I think she said they went to dinner-, so I don't have to put on an act. I don't have to pretend I'm sweet and occupied. It turns out Ariel loves water. The ocean. It's an explanation for her sea-themed walls, postcards/photos scattered over them, edges torn and looking as if they came from magazines, the sea dollars, starfish, and netting strewn in random spots, picture frames holding small nautical items and sketches. It explains her extreme quietness, in bits and pieces. Ariel's been confusing the last few days… or maybe I've just been able to push my own problems aside. Or maybe her small, optimistic, cramped room has been whispering to me too much to pay attention. Everything is tomboyish, green, and blue, like a toddler skipped down seashore, and came home with every shell they could find. Or Ariel just enjoys floating with sea turtles in a winding current. Still, at least if I lie on her bed I don't have to look at the giant stuffed shark. I'm starting think I'm the complete opposite of her.

I suck my Popsicle, a hand stroking the seam of her cotton pillow, my blonde locks draped over the case. This isn't so bad. School is probably what makes me so uptight, _her_ so uptight and difficult to convey. School was the first place I saw her. I only liked her face. Girls like her; you know there's something _off _about them just by their appearance. It's just that way, given. It feels like I can finally chill. Right here, right now on her mattress, in her room, in her house for the first time. I needed something new. I don't know if Ariel is secretly mental, or is hiding something from me. She has that mysterious look about her as if she has a story to tell, but she looks at me with such hope and brightness, with a smile on her face. It's almost satisfying. I have had numerous boys _and _girls confess their love for me in the past, tell me their true feeling of how I make them happy, leaving me wondering _why me. _I'm not cocky. Only curious, because I am and have been a big deal to people. More than I ever knew was possible. But Flora, Fauna and Merryweather are starting to erode that thought.

I lick my pop some more, stickiness coating my lips, summer sweet, and I can't help but groan. I love food. I love blue. I love Ariel's freezer. Something doesn't sound right about that…

"Hey, do you want something to drink?" Ariel gets up off the floor from brushing her again with a fork and stands in front of the bed, smoothing down her hair.

I lick the sweetness from my lips and blink. "Yeah, um, a smoothie?" I sit up, careful not to drop the Popsicle. "Or if that's too much work, water's fine."

Her face lights up, as if to say that she'll do anything to please me. But every time she sees water, she steps back. "Mkay!" She walks out, legs wobbling. I like it.

Looking around, Ariel's parents are getting by well. I think she mentioned her dad was a lawyer and her mom an attorney or something. I mean, it's a condo, but a _nice _one. It's all sophisticated, classy, organized spaciousness…until you enter Ariel's room. Then it switches from expensive cosmopolitan to scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef.

I lick the last piece of cold, blue sweetness off the stick, picking myself off Ariel's bed and gazing around. I feel my face crinkle. I love it here, it's just…her bedroom. It's gonna take some getting used to. There are trinkets, souvenirs, and markers littered in random spots, but no belongings indicating to other people. Maybe she didn't have many friends before she transferred to our school, or she's trying to forget about them. Sure, she's perky, social, and a bit illogical, but girls like that are supposed to have lots of friends. Girls like that…they're my type. Now that I know we go to the same school…well, that's a plus. I used to force myself to dislike people like Ariel. I used to think that they would just bring me down, with their concave thoughts, shyness and shutting out. But there's something about her that's attractive, and I don't want to leave it. Everything about her, everything in this room has its own explanation and it baffles the fuck out of me, but I want to memorize each one. People like her are demure. A puzzle piece still developing its edges.

I find my way to her desk. It's black and stretches across the wall adjacent to her bed, a conch shell containing writing utensils, thumbnails of fish scribbled in the corners. They rather look like a pattern, the way the different shapes form an array circling the desk's edges. Then her dresser. I glance at myself in her wicker mirror quickly, ruffling my fingers through my hair. There are tickets and notes shoved in the mirror frame's cracks, with black star stickers adorned around the edges. I poke at a white ear spike attentively, with dark shades of lip liner, mascara, and eyeliner sprinkled around it. It's pretty stuff. I've always been one for girly things like this. It's just fascinating. All ordinary. All captivating.

I lick the tips of my fingers, tugging open the top drawer blindly. Boxers, of all different patterns and colors.

"One freshly-made smoothie, right here," Ariel says softly, walking into the room. I turn, quickly snatching my finger from my tongue and slam the drawer closed. "What are you doing?"

My face heats up, and she looks at me with such confusion I want to break into tears. What _was _I doing? Was I looking for something to prove she's the one I've been dreaming about? Was I hoping to find something or did I have nothing else to do? Did I need reassurance, or want to get to know her better? By snooping. In retrospect, that was the worst idea. I can't say aloud that she intrigues me.

"You have such nice things, Ariel. I was just…looking at them. If that's okay." I manage to smile, and she walks over to me, handing me the glass.

"Doesn't matter. I don't care. Thanks," she smiles a bit. I sit down next to her. Her hand brushes her long hair forward. It's an ultramarine, different portions dyed contrasting teal tints, and the piercing above her chin gleams as she looks at her feet. Her head is tilted at just the right degree; I swear I see that her roots are red. I take a long sip of the smoothie, sharp berry slinking down my throat.

I remember why I came here. I suggested it, and I've just realized that I should learn from her. I need to learn how to be hollow. I look into her light eyes, and I see stripes of hurt, curiosity, wondering, and flecks of insecurities. I can see the insides of her almost, like she's a ghost, and I can harmlessly reach through her. From what I've gathered, Ariel's _odd _in some way, and I don't know how. Yet.

I rub my forehead, trying to think. This is a nice place, really. _But her bedroom's a tad different._ Ariel scoots closer to me, and it's a little _too _close, the cushiony mattress sinking under us. Her arm brushes mine. It's warm. "What's your room like, Aurora?" she asks, picking at the pocket on her button-down.

"My room? Well, it's different than yours, that's for sure." I stifle a laugh, because I'm wary. That's all I give her. I don't like talking about myself. My room is actually pink, with tons of stuffed animals, patterned blankets, and throw pillows. It's like a seven-year-old girl's bipolar wonderland. It's extremely bland sometimes but then again, that's my fault. "So, talk to me. Why'd you move to Liverpool?" It's about as understated as I can get, because the last thing I want to do is seem nosy. It was either that or interrogating her, because there is just _so much _of her thatI want to know. _Why are you so nice? What's up with your boxers? How are you so relaxed? Why are you so mysterious?_

Ariel is wringing her hands in her lap, eyes skittering over the floor, long lashes fluttering. "Um," she starts. She's putting up a wall. I've already been noticing that she's timid around me. "What do you mean? For my dad's job."

I press my lips together. I half-expected her to let out a huge sigh. Or to actually give me eye contact.

"What were your friends like?" I say quietly. I watch her as I say it, for some sort of sign that her friends were interesting, had an impact on her, or if she will even answer me. Because this could teach me a lot.

Her eyes flit down, fingers tracing along her smooth thigh, and she turns the other way. I've died thinking about her. She takes up so much space in my mind; it's probably insane. I just want everything she is, which is a way I don't feel about many people. I want her skin, her flesh, her bones, her limbs, her everything. I want to become lost in her. I'm a zoologist, and she's a species unknown. I want to research her and find out everything I can. Claim her as mine. But then again, I claim, but I am never claimed in return. Whatever she chooses to reveal about her past, I will give her all my attention. I will listen.

Intently.

"I...well…" She turns back, and begins twisting her hands again. I wonder if she is going to answer me honestly, and more, I wonder what it is I'm going to hear. "T-there were my sisters, I had six and…Max….he was a dog…" She trails off, peeking at me._ Six sisters._ Here I am with no siblings whatsoever. "And there was Scuttle," A smile twists her lips, "He called me Sweets." Ariel's eyes flicker to mine, smoky and shiny, "'Cause my hair is blue." She pulls some hair from behind her neck, combing through the strands as if to show me. "And there was Sebastian, and Flounder, and…" The smile, small as it was, leaves her face. That light disappearing. It affects me as well, because I care for her. "And Eric." She forces herself to smile, but her joy is forged, I can see how much effort she's putting into it, see the sparks she is trying to rebirth. "But they're…we're not friends anymore. I mean…Flounder and I talk sometimes, but…"

"Things changed." I say softly, inspecting her. I'm learning something. I am learning how to hide behind my eyes just as she does and pretend that I'm okay. I am learning that laughs and smiles are just rearrangements of muscles when they have no feeling. They're just motions. And there's something else I caught. "Eric." Ariel moves at the name, turning away again, and my suspicions are submitted. "What was he like?" Ariel's feet overlap each other on the carpet, nerve wracked, and I scoot closer to her, to research her, to evaluate the sections that build her emotions, to see if I can learn more. My hand grazes hers as I shift, thigh pressing against hers for just a moment, and I am close enough to catch her when she tries to hide.

I'm close enough to feel her sweet breath on my face.

"He um…" Ariel looks at me, muting herself at my eyes. "He was fine. I mean, he was nothing special, you know. He was just…a friend." Ariel starts to chew on her lip, exhaling choppily, her juxtaposed hair slipping free from behind her ear. "Auri…why are you here?" _Auri. _I want to cry. She's called me a nickname that I've always wanted. Her lustrous eyes are questioning, tearing me apart, and waiting for me to tell the truth. To tell her I like her. Her eyes are almost _beckoning me forward._

"I want to know you better." It's not a total lie. There are parts of her that I want to get to know, parts and sections and pieces I want to disassemble so I can learn how they function, so maybe I can construct a new me. I'm not in paradise, but I'm determined.

Ariel's eyes dart over the room, down her legs, up my chest to my face, and stop at my eyes. She takes a deep breath and closes the space between us, so swiftly, so brave. So…_with ease. _Ariel's lips are like silk, soft, and smooth, tasting like saltwater. And I'm shocked, eyes shutting immediately, trying to find words, to get my hands to work, trying to do _anything_. But Ariel's lips shut me up. Her pale hand is weighing mine down, holding me in place, as if I'm a criminal, and she's a cop. Her touch is flooding, really. I force my eyes and ears open, and all I can see is blue. All I can hear is oblivion, the sound of a sea's abyss. Ariel's long lashes dark and thick, her hair flowing freely, and I finally find the brainpower to pull back.

My fingers shoot up to my mouth, touching my lips as if her ghost is still lingering there, wanting to taste more of me. Ariel's eyes open, licking her lips as if she's reading my mind. Her eyebrows knit. "I…I'm so sorry." She's looking at me fearfully. I'm sitting here, waiting for the tears, the confusion to sink in, putting together the contradiction I'm going to give her. This should have been me. But…her fingernails left imprints in my hand, and the overwhelm helps my feelings come out clearer, wishing that the imprints are tattoos, left here on my skin forever. Ariel squeezes her eyes shut with might, waiting for a tear to escape. "I shouldn't have, I'm s-so sorry."

The side of my mouth curls up at her stuttering, because it's actually pretty adorable. Ariel has been attempting to trip me the whole time she's been here, sweeping me off my feet, but this time she's completely knocked me to the ground. Somehow, I'm giddy. I smile at her gently. "Don't apologize. It's okay."

**A/N: I had a lot of stuff to cover in this chapter. It's sort of altered from the rest of the story. I think. **

**I really like cereal. And thin, pretty, lace stockings. I don't know. I want some right now. They'd be helpful. Until next time...so long, my charmings.**


	7. Chapter 7

I walk down the street with my eyes closed, a part of me not caring if I ended up in the middle. I concentrate on the illusion of darkness, twisting rings of stars, onward and hypnotizing, flickers of pink. The backs of my eyelids are galaxies. I tug at the sash of my blue dress. I twist my lips; the color is fucking coincidental and something must have been going through my mind this morning when I put the dress on. I'm trying so hard to concentrate on something other than what happened earlier, because if I play that scene over in my head, the goodness will eat me alive. It's so hard to focus when there's a blue mailbox ahead of me, a blue sedan parked across the street, azure fabric covering my body, below my eyes. Blue, blue, blue everywhere. Ariel's hair, long and striking, Ariel's eyes, bright but unenlightened. Ariel's bedroom, flooded almost with water, anyone could believe. It's all like a whirlpool, like it's sucked me in and I'm drowning. And no matter how hard I try, I'm stuck. Trapped.

The last words I said were a form of reassurance to her. "It's okay." And as the day passed, I totally forgot that I'm supposed to go to Flora's for dinner. But now I'm thinking over the kiss. _The kiss. _Shit, I was supposed to be the one who kissed her first. It's more unrealistic then a dream now. It's like a mirage, or a momentary daydream. A hallucination. And the most pathetic thing is the dilemma as to whether or not I should lick my lips again, because I don't know if I liked it. I don't know if I want her ghost obliterated now, or her taste to stay. I care if I let her down. I notice that I'm unraveling the thread of my dress's skirt, yanking on it out of distress. Let me return to my galaxy now. Let me cower in broad daylight, blonde curls blocking my face, weaker than sunlight. I just don't understand it. She…she…kissed me. Aurora. Not Briar Rose. Aurora. Auri.

I close my eyes again, making sure my feet remain in a straight rhythm onward for fear of cars. I'm analyzing my eyelids' constellations so strenuously that my eyes start to ache. How come my eyes couldn't be purple or brown right now? Why do they have to be blue? _They're not helping the situation. _Or maybe they are. Maybe they're telling me to trust Ariel and go for it. I vowed that I would, I think. Blue. A commanding color and it's the fucking color of my eyes. Yes. I love Ariel. And I'm eventually gonna tell her that. I'm just a little thrown off balance. The frequent times that her voice is loud enough, it's inevitable; it's when it's a whisper or even a murmur that I have a mental breakdown. Somewhere I feel like I _should _be sick of giving a fuck, of analyzing her every move and step, sick of being fascinated. She's teaching me more than I had anticipated. All I wanted was to figure out how to be cheerful and solid with my feelings, but now all I want to do is to dig into her deeper, dissecting everything she is. She sure is a teacher. More like a professor. She carries a mallet and she's pounding the knowledge into my head. It's unthinkable and sometimes feels as if she's not quite reaching my brain with it, it's just pain, the information being slammed against my skull. I'm hooked, and advancing is my only concern.

Stars. Just keep admiring the pretty space visions. Push aside the wishes and thoughts. I can't be far from Flora's; I've been walking for a while now, and I open my eyes. Shit. I've passed her street. Alright. _Don't think about it. _

I blink and walk down Flora's driveway still fidgeting with my dress. I feel so out of place right now. I usually ring her doorbell but this time I knock on her mahogany door, tips of my knuckles drumsticks. Knuckles. It's a powerful word. I never knock. And now…I know I'm uptight. It's given. Flora's house is like my second home. I feel beyond comfortable here. But…I need to act like nothing happened. I didn't come from Ariel's. I came from my house. Actually let's just go with the grocery store.

Flora opens up the door with a gentle smile, lips pressing together and letting me enter. "Hi." She looks at me suspiciously, like she doesn't know why I knocked. I kick off my sandals and sigh, wanting nothing more than to collapse in the leather chair up in her room. I scoot past her nervously. It's written all over my face, isn't it. I should feel so welcomed here; I should feel like family. But right now, I feel strange. Like an intruder. Maybe it's just because I just came from someone's house for the first time, or I'm being too sensitive about…about hiding it.

_It. _I shake my head, tearing my gaze off the loose string of my dress. Alright. I need to concentrate on something that isn't a shade of blue.

Flora leads me upstairs, her strides long, making me think of Ariel's, which are completely fucking different. "So what were you doing after school?"

It's that question that sets me off. It's like she's mocking me. Of course she would ask that. "Um, you know. Homework. I drew a bit."

I twist my lips and fall into Flora's chair, thankful that it's grey. Her room isn't all that complex, but it sort of has a dead end, if that makes sense. Half of it is all about her, books and all of her sweatshirts arranged, and then the other side just…ends. It's dull. For some reason, there's a jar of seashells over there.

Flora waits as if she's expecting me to go on, to tell her about my day at school, because she always asks these boring, classic questions. But I'm silent, scared that if I speak again, I'd stutter uncontrollably.

"How was your day?" she asks, realizing I had nothing else to say.

How was my day? _How the hell was my day? _It was interesting alright. That's all I can say. "It was okay."

"That's it? That's all you're giving me?"

I force my eyes off the seashells and look at her even though I don't want to. My shoulders feel cramped, my lips twisted tightly, and my eyes feel like they're squinting too hard from trying to conceal everything that happened an hour ago. Flora's face falls, and once again, I know I've disappointed her. She sits on the floor in front of my feet, her head tilting to the side, as if trying to decipher the labyrinth I've given her.

She gets up, and I know she's getting water for us. She does it every time I come over. When she comes back, I snatch the glass and down the liquid frantically, as if I need to be calmed. I need to binge this time. But on water? Water. _Fuck. _It's like I can taste her, like she's found her way on my lips again, washing the remaining berry flavor down my throat as I lick them.

Flora looks confused as she sits down. "So, my mom will be home in about a half hour, and then she'll start on dinner. You want to go for a walk?"

I take a tiny sip of the water, and my only option is to agree. "Sure."


End file.
